


Totally Not a Valentine

by ConsultingHound



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Apologies for the lack of smut, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Molly give inadvertently good advice, Sherlock's secretly romantic, even when he doesnt try, though no actual smut this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingHound/pseuds/ConsultingHound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John really don't do Valentine's Day; don't they?  In which John gets a surprise and Sherlock wins sweetest boyfriend award.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Totally Not a Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> I said I wasn't going to do a Valentine's fic but here we are... Just couldn't resist I suppose. I hope you enjoy!

"I got you something."  
The four, casually spoken words caused John to pause in his search for a teaspoon and swivel to look at his 6ft, nonchalant looking boyfriend, perched at the kitchen table.  He was still hunched over his own sort-of-but-not-really Valentines gift, a new microscope to replace the one he'd managed to finally break after 4 long years of acid stains and accidental fire mishaps.  John’s main reasoning was he'd be getting one anyway so why not tie it into a holiday?  It certainly had nothing to do with the way Sherlock's face had lit up with a manic glee that rarely graced his features or the way he'd looked at John as if he'd announced there was also a locked door serial killer running round. (John had stopped using this analogy around other people as soon as he realised that it wasn’t exactly considered ‘normal’).

Normally, Sherlock and John didn't really _do_ Valentine’s Day.  Sherlock had stressed his abhorrence of sentiment periodically, usually contradicting his words by doing something unbearably sweet of thoughtful, and an entire day dedicated to declarations of love and soppiness seemed was something to avoid at all costs.  The closest they'd gotten to romance was last year with an accidental revelation of their relationship to most of Scotland Yard when they were caught snogging in a hospital room after Sherlock ended up with a large gash in his side.  However this couldn’t really be considered romantic due to the fact that every time they got within 2 feet of the Yard they were instantly bombarded with questions, to the point that Sherlock refused to help anyone (much to his annoyance) until this had been stopped.  This year had been relatively quiet, Sherlock engrossed in dissecting everything he could lay his hands on which, much to John’s chagrin, included half of the actual edible things in the fridge and John writing up a case finished yesterday and generally lounging about for a while.

Therefore, the quiet admission that, yes, Sherlock did in fact recognise the significance of the date, was surprising and...worrying.  John was slightly ashamed to admit that he was apprehensive of what Sherlock considered ‘suitable’; visions of actual dissected human hearts and crime scenes containing lovers in an attempt to show the futility of the holiday filling his mind. 

“Oh really?” he replied, in an equally casual tone, trying to observe.  Sherlock may still be the master but John had found that spending the majority of your time with a Consulting Detective certainly sharpened your skills of deduction.  This was also helped by the fact that John could just about read most of Sherlock’s expressions by now, though that never seemed to help understanding the why.

“Hmm,” was the only response given and John was about to spin back round with a fond, exasperated sigh when Sherlock continued, straightening up in his chair and occasionally glancing at John while he spoke.  “Molly mentioned the date while I was at the morgue the other day.  Apparently answering that we were not planning anything was sacrilege against relationships everywhere,” he rolled his eyes and John chuckled to imagine Molly’s horrified expression at the thought of letting the day pass unnoticed. “When I asked what one usually does, she began wittering on about flowers and chocolates and _picnics_ , of all things.  Does she not realise its February?” He looked at John for confirmation that this was a ridiculous notion before speaking again. “She said that people often exchanged gifts to signify their feelings and as I knew you were planning on buying me something- yes I did realise, no need for that look,” he grinned at John’s definitely _not_ a pout. 

“Just be nice to surprise you once in a while,” he huffed and Sherlock smiled at him.

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know you were purchasing this one.  This one is much better than the last one,” he said, reverently ghosting his fingers over the apparatus.  John smiled back, pacified, and nodded in acknowledgement. 

“And so what wisdom did Molly bestow on you?  I’m not getting a fluffy teddy am I?”  John laughed at Sherlock’s horrified look.

“People don’t genuinely buy those things do they?”  He shook his head as if to dispel the image.  “Anyway, Molly did give me one idea, however inadvertently.”  Sherlock spun round to the counter top behind him and plucked an envelope out from behind the bread bin (John made a note to remember that hiding spot just as Sherlock decided to never use the hiding place again).  John was amused to see that the great Sherlock-I’m-not-affected-by-sentiment-Holmes looked a bit nervous as he stood and held out the envelope to John.

He made a show of inspecting the paper, causing Sherlock to roll his eyes affectionately.  However there wasn’t anything to notice: it was a simple, white, rectangular envelope.  John was careful not to rip the tab as he opened it and pretended not to notice that Sherlock had gone completely still apart from his eyes, darting between the envelope and John’s expression, hands clasped behind his back.  It would have been intimidating had it not been so endearing. 

John carefully pulled out the single sheet encased inside.  He frowned slightly as he tried to puzzle out what he was seeing.

“It’s an MRI scan?” 

Sherlock nodded tightly.  “Mine to be precise.”  John’s eyes snapped to Sherlock’s face.  “Molly happened to mention that hearts are often highly symbolic of many things.  I believe she meant the one’s plastered over every shop front in the country but I felt this better expressed what I was trying to say.”

“Which is?” John choked out over the lump in his throat.  He was a hardened Army Doctor godammit, not some teenage girl getting her first Valentine but if Sherlock was trying to say what he thought he was saying...

Sherlock seemed to be finding speech equally difficult.  He opened his mouth but no words came out and he coughed a little embarrassed, which set John off giggling, which of course he had to join in until they were both giggling and pointedly not looking at each other.  How they had gotten so close that they were practically toe-to-toe John couldn’t answer but he was glad they had as he was pretty sure there was a faint blush on Sherlock’s high cheekbones which he wouldn’t have seen at a further distance.

“John,” Sherlock’s voice was pitched even lower than normal, clearly having noticed the lack of space and John felt a shiver go down his spine as he looked into impossible silver eyes, staring at him, without the barrier of indifference he usually wore.  Their power was hypnotic and it took John a moment to realise Sherlock was speaking again.

“John,” he paused, gathering up courage for his small, prepared speech, “You have given me more than I could ever hope or wish for.  More than I even knew I wanted, and, if you want of course, I would be honoured if you held onto my heart for there is no one else I would trust with it than you.”  He grinned slightly at that, tapping the photo still clutched in John’s hands before nervously scrutinising John’s blank features.  He feared it may have been too much, too much emotion, too much commitment but it was how he felt and Molly had stressed it was important to be open about your feelings, though that didn’t help her did it but he couldn’t ask John what to do about Valentine’s because it was for John and so it was only logical to ask Molly but what if it wasn’t the right thing to say or the wrong time to say it and _why the hell was John not reacting already so he knew what to do?_

John, after what felt like an age but was in reality only a few seconds, nodded, as if confirming something and, dragging his eyes away from Sherlock’s, carefully placed the scan back inside the envelope.  Sherlock took the fact that he didn’t move an inch as he placed it on a bare bit of table as a good sign.

John then placed his hands so he was gently cupping Sherlock’s face and stared for a heartbeat, before dragging him down into a fierce insistent kiss.  He tried to put as much emotion as Sherlock had spoken into the kiss, trying to tell him _I feel the same way too_ because out of the two of them Sherlock was always going to be the eloquent one and John was a man of action and so act he did.  Sherlock’s arms hung onto John’s waist as his mouth fell open to accept John’s tongue and he moaned as he allowed his sense to become filled with one thought _: John, John, John_.  John’s smell, John’s taste, John’s noises, the feeling of soft jumper giving way to denim.   He whimper as John captured his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away again much, much too early.  John rested his forehead against Sherlock’s and they breathed against each other for a few moments, neither able to speak. 

“I love you too, you giant idiot,” John growled and Sherlock laughed shakily.  It wasn’t long however before he ducked back in for another kiss, attempting to get as much contact as possible, arms wrapping around John’s waist in a tight hold so they were waist to waist.  John pulled away and swore as they pressed together, even through layers of fabric but suddenly he got a mischievous glint in his eye. 

Sherlock moaned as John swivelled them and backed him up against the counter.  He began trailing kisses down Sherlock’s jaw and neck, nipping occasionally to elicit a gasp and causing Sherlock to arch his neck even further, his head lolling back so he was in danger of hitting his head on the cupboards. 

“Bedroom?” John asked, forcing his voice back to casual as he paused over Sherlock’s collarbone.  Sherlock breathed a laugh before grabbing his hand and tugging him impatiently over to their room. 

 

20 minutes later with sweat slick skin, clothes strewn across the room, John pounding into him, sucking lovebites he would have to hide under a scarf the next day, Sherlock conceded that maybe this Valentine’s rubbish had some merits after all.  

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this then kudos are awesome and if you have any advice comments are always appreciated. Come and say Hi at dinosaursdontplaypianos.tumblr.com and HAPPY VALENTINES DAY :D


End file.
